and tall
hats; and the former was in a state of considerable excitement about his
anthem.

Through the drowsy summer air the five bells of Chenecote Church chimed
delicately, and prayer-books were at a premium. Everybody except Lady
Locke had come down without one, and Mrs. Windsor was in despair.

"We must have them," she said piteously, "or the congregation will be
dreadfully shocked. Congregations are so easily shocked in the country.
I wonder if the servants have any? Servants always have prayer-books and
that kind of thing, don't they? I will ask."

She rang the bell, and one of the tall footmen appeared.

"Simpson, we want four prayer-books," she said. "Are there any in the
house?"

Simpson looked exceedingly doubtful, but said he would go and see.
Eventually he returned with three.

"There is one more, ma'am--the upper housemaid's," he said, handing them
on a salver. "But she wrote comments in it when she belonged to the
Salvation Army, and she can't rub them out, ma'am, so she don't like to
show it."

"Really!" said Mrs. Windsor, looking mystified. "Well, never mind, we
must try and manage with these. Oh! Lord Reggie, you won't want one, of
course, because you will be behind the curtain. I forgot that. We are
going to walk. It is only ten minutes or so, and I thought it would be
more rustic, especially as the roads are dusty. Now, I think we ought to
start. If we are late it will create a scandal, and Mr. Smith will be
horrified."

"How dutiful the atmosphere is!" Madame Valtesi said to Amarinth as they
set forth. "We are so frightfully punctual that I feel quite like an
early Christian. I wonder why the Christians were always so early before
we were born? They are generally very late now."

"I suppose they have grown tired," he answered, arranging the carnation
in his buttonhole meditatively. "Probably we suffer from the activity of
our forefathers. When I feel fatigued I always think that my
grandfather must have been what is called an excellent walker. How very
Sabbath the morning is!"

There was, in fact, a Sunday air in the quiet country road. The geese
had ceased from their mundane proceedings in the pond, and were
meditating over their sins in some cloistered nook of the farmyard. The
fields looked greenly pious, emptied as they were of labourers. In the
flowery hedgerows the birds chirped with a chastened note; and even the
summer wind touched the walkers as a bishop touches the heads of
kn